


Midnight Snack

by vorare



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: (no actual vore), Belly Kink, Cecil is Human, Chubby!Cecil, Feeding, Food Kink, M/M, Stuffing, Vore fantasies, Weight Gain, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorare/pseuds/vorare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos really likes Cecil's new eating habits.</p>
<p>Continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4651485">"Filling the Void"</a> (but you don't need to read that to understand this).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snack

Carlos was happy to be home. _Happy_ felt like an understatement, in fact, but he could not think of a more applicable word that would fully encompass how glad he was to be back in Night Vale, back in the lab with his team of scientists, back in Cecil’s arms. The latter was the place he preferred most of all.

            He had missed Cecil’s physical presence throughout his stay in the desert otherworld, of course, but it had been bearable, especially since he was able to talk to Cecil on the phone most days. He believed he was pretty good at this long-distance relationship thing, and that maintaining his mental and emotional connection with his boyfriend was much more important than maintaining their physical one. And though there were some nights, when the desert wind was howling (and so was the masked army, sometimes, and other nameless things too), when Carlos was fiercely aware of the emptiness beside him in bed, he had gotten very good at redirecting his mind to scientific subjects to keep loneliness from infecting his brain. When he needed release, he would imagine that Cecil was there with him, and that made it more difficult, but usually he could distract himself once he was finished. The need was not frequent, anyway; perhaps it was how wrapped up Carlos was in his work, and perhaps it was the loneliness, but Carlos’s sexual appetite seemed, for the most part, dormant in the desert otherworld.

            That had changed when the possibility of Cecil visiting became a reality, though. He could not get Cecil off his mind once he knew that he would be seeing him in person soon. And when he finally arrived, Carlos thought he might go out of his mind with wanting him. He was even more attractive to Carlos than he had ever been, and the long months apart were not the only reason. Cecil had put on a noticeable amount of weight, arms and thighs just a bit thicker, shoulders a touch broader, but most significantly, a rounded belly filling out the front of his tucked-in button-down, which held its weight like a sling. Carlos had felt his face, as well as other parts of him, flush with heat as Cecil had thrown his arms around him and that belly had pressed against him, making its round, well-fed shape felt.

            Carlos was not ashamed of his proclivity for fuller figures, but it was also something he had never talked to Cecil about – something he had never talked to anyone about, really. He had never felt the need to. But now here Cecil was, looking impossibly appealing and sending Carlos’s lust off the charts. He worried, though, that since Cecil had not mentioned it at all, he might be self-conscious about his gain and might not be pleased if Carlos drew attention to it, or worse, that he might feel objectified if Carlos confessed how much the added weight turned him on. So he did his best not to think about it as he eagerly set about showing Cecil the world he had lived in for the past year.

            It had been impossible not to think about it once he saw Cecil eating dinner, though. Much as he had tried not to stare at Cecil’s mouth and the slight distension of his throat every time he swallowed a large bite, as much as he tried not to think about that food filling up Cecil’s stomach and making his belly stretch even fuller and rounder, maybe enough to pop one of his shirt buttons off – _oh, I think I’d die if he popped one of those buttons off –_ he could not seem to manage it. And so strong was his desire to see Cecil eat more that he had practically forced second and third helpings on him, though Cecil did not seem to mind.

            Once they had lain down together in bed, Carlos could not help but touch, could not help laying his hand on that full, swollen, ever-so-pleasing curve. Just the feel of it under his hand, warm and slightly soft but taut with fullness, had been enough to send the majority of Carlos’s blood rushing south. When Cecil had noticed his arousal and Carlos had blushingly confessed how much he liked the change, Cecil had, to Carlos’s immense relief, seemed relieved as well. And Carlos had gotten to spend the rest of that night, and the nights that came after until Cecil had to return to Night Vale, lovingly caressing and kissing and worshipping that beautiful expanse of flesh.

            Naturally, Cecil had filled Carlos in on the reasons behind his gain, how food had become his coping mechanism when he found himself missing Carlos. And so when Carlos finally returned home, though he felt terrible for even thinking it, he found himself fretting that Cecil would not feel the need to overindulge anymore, that he would gradually shed the pounds he carried so well and return to his former shape – still attractive, of course, but so slim, lacking that gorgeous filled-out curve of gut that made Carlos’s knees weak. It quickly became apparent that this was not going to be the case, however. Cecil seemed to eat all the time. It was not clear whether it was because he was not going to relinquish something he enjoyed just because he no longer needed it to cope, or because he knew that Carlos liked it, or some combination thereof, but whatever it was, Carlos was glad of it. And he was more than happy to help, cooking large meals for Cecil whenever he had the time, bringing home plentiful takeout when he didn’t, and of course rubbing and kissing Cecil’s belly for him when he lay stuffed and groaning after one of the heavy dinners he favored.

            One day, it occurred to Carlos to test just how strong Cecil’s appetite had gotten. He could not pretend to have any scientific pretense, but the stirring between his legs refused to let him relinquish the idea. So after work he picked up a prodigious quantity of pulled pork from Earl Harlan (Earl had been more than happy to make it when Carlos called from work and said that it was for Cecil), and swung by the Ralph’s to pick up the largest tub of ice cream he could find in the freezers. When he got home, he made sure to leave the pork out with the lid off for a while so that the mouthwatering scent would permeate the kitchen before stowing both treats away in the fridge and freezer, respectively. Then he set about preparing a very modest dinner of small chicken cutlets and string beans.

            When Cecil came in, he immediately remarked, “Mm, that smells good,” and Carlos smiled to himself. Cecil came up behind him and slipped his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. Carlos couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the feeling of Cecil’s belly pressing against the small of his back; even after all these weeks, he was still not used to that, and it still set his heart beating faster. He didn’t think he would ever get used to that.

            “It’ll be ready in a few minutes, babe,” Carlos said. “Why don’t you sit down?”

            “What is it that smells so good?” Cecil pressed, the question and his raised eyebrow as he looked down at the green beans Carlos was boiling implying that he certainly didn’t believe the scent was coming from anything Carlos was visibly cooking.

            “It’s probably the pulled pork I got from Earl Harlan today,” Carlos said, trying to sound nonchalant. He felt Cecil perk up at that, and his stomach growled loudly enough for Carlos to hear. “Sorry, it’s not for you,” he hastened to add. “I picked up that pork and a whole tub of coffee ice cream for a… science party we’re having tomorrow.”

            “Coffee? You _know_ that’s my favorite,” Cecil said, pouting. “You really didn’t get any for me?”

            “Nope, sorry. We’ll go out and have something good tomorrow, huh? Tonight it’s just chicken and green beans, nothing fancy.”

            “Okay,” Cecil acquiesced, though clearly unsatisfied with this answer. He pulled away from Carlos’s back and went to sit down at the table.

            When the food was ready, Carlos brought it to the table and served Cecil. They ate and talked about their days, Carlos relating an anecdote about some petri dishes that had become sentient and refused to stay under the microscope because it violated their right to privacy, Cecil recounting the disappearance of yet another station intern. When the comparatively meager fare was all gone, Carlos could tell that Cecil was still hungry; he didn’t say anything, but his eyes flicked more than once in the direction of the refrigerator, and he licked his lips. The longing glances fridge-wards continued as they settled on the couch to watch a movie before bed, and Carlos could hear Cecil’s stomach quietly complaining of its dissatisfaction with dinner, giving thin whines and low growls from time to time rather than the rich gurgles it usually emitted after being sated with a large meal.

            When they went to bed, Carlos pretended to fall asleep quickly, but he kept his eyelids very slightly parted to keep an eye on Cecil, who lay still for a while but soon started tossing and turning. Eventually he sat up and laid a hand on his stomach, smoothing the thin fabric of his t-shirt over its roundness, and it growled loudly. Through hooded eyes Carlos saw Cecil glance at him and bite his lip, and then he got out of bed and padded out of the bedroom, bare feet soundless on the carpet. Carlos’s stomach did a somersault. _He’s really going to do it. He can’t resist. God, he’s gotten so greedy._ The thoughts were accompanied by exultation and arousal rather than judgment, and after waiting a few minutes, Carlos got up and crept out of the bedroom to follow Cecil to the kitchen.

            He stopped at the end of the hallway, just outside the kitchen, and pressed himself to the wall so he wouldn’t be seen as he peered into the kitchen. Cecil was silhouetted by the light of the open fridge, and Carlos watched his resistance crumble as he looked at Earl’s mouthwatering creation. He seized the heavy container, grabbed a fork and brought it to the table, peeling off the lid slowly and reverently. He hesitated again as he sat down, biting his lip, but then he gave in and plunged the fork in. The sound of pleasure he made as he put that first bite into his mouth went straight to Carlos’s groin, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his breathing quiet.

            It looked as though Cecil may have intended to just sneak a few bites, as he took the first few slowly and deliberately, but soon that intention, if it had been his intention, was forgotten, and he was shoveling large forkfuls to his mouth. A few times he got so caught up in it that he used his hand rather than the fork to convey a larger quantity of the tender, sauce-slathered meat to his mouth, and that image, coupled with the sound of Cecil swallowing, made Carlos feel faint.

            When Cecil had polished off about half of the contents of the container, he stood up, and for a moment Carlos thought that was all he was going to eat. But then he had opened the freezer and pulled out the tub of ice cream and retrieved a spoon, and Carlos had to bite his lip to hold back the whimper in his throat, because he didn’t think he had ever been this turned on in his life.

            Cecil alternated between the pork and the ice cream, taking large bites of each, occasionally giving little moans and sighs of pleasure. He began to slow down after a while, but he didn’t stop eating; Carlos could not see how much ice cream was left, but he could see that nearly all the pork had been eaten. And soon enough Cecil was gathering the very last of it onto his fork, and after he had popped it into his mouth, chewed briefly and swallowed thickly, he carefully licked clean the tines of the fork and then each of his fingers with a wet slurping sound. He sat still for a few minutes then, no doubt feeling the weight of just how much he had eaten as it settled in his stomach, and tried to muffle a loud belch behind his hand. Then he stood and put the empty container in the sink, and the ice cream carton he threw in the trash – _God, he ate all of that too –_ and Carlos saw how his already too-tight t-shirt had ridden up over his overfull belly, revealing a pale stretch of skin to the moonlight filtering in through the kitchen window. Cecil adjusted the waistband of his pajama pants to rest more comfortably beneath his bloated middle, which only further accentuated the round shape. He went to the fridge and pulled out the half-gallon of milk from the fridge door, uncapping it and taking a few long swallows to wash down the glut of food. After he had put the milk back, he leaned back against the counter, one hand on the side of his stomach and the other raised to his mouth to muffle a few quiet hiccups, and Carlos knew he would probably be returning to bed soon. As much as he wanted to continue drinking in the sight, he turned around and crept back to bed, climbing in and pretending to be asleep.

            Cecil came back a few minutes later, crawling gingerly into bed as he tried not to press his overfull stomach. He flopped down on the pillows a bit too roughly and burped involuntarily, covering his mouth as he glanced over to see whether Carlos was awake. Carlos kept his eyes lidded, and Cecil adjusted himself until he found a comfortable position, lying on his back with his hands resting on the sides of his belly. He muffled a few more belches as his belly started to gurgle, but soon his head lolled to one side and Carlos was sure he had fallen asleep.

            He sat up slightly to admire his boyfriend, lying supine and stuffed as he was. There were traces of ice cream and barbecue sauce on his lips and chin from how messily he had eaten, and occasionally his tongue would slide out to lick the flavor from his lips, even in his sleep. Rich and sundry sounds of digestion were coming from deep within his full gut, and the way his hand rested on it highlighted its roundness. _He looks so perfect, so satisfied_ …

            Having been staring at Cecil’s middle for what must have been several minutes, it took Carlos a long time to realize that Cecil’s eyes were open and looking at him. He felt himself blush hard, suddenly feeling guilty that he had orchestrated this without Cecil’s knowledge, wondering if it was a violation of his trust. But Cecil pushed himself up against the pillow and surged forward to meet Carlos’s lips in a kiss, and Carlos felt himself go boneless in the passion of the kiss, in the meaty-sweet-spicy taste of it on Cecil’s lips. “Cecil, I…” he began breathlessly as he pulled away, but Cecil spoke over him.

“You wanted me to eat all that? Yes, I know.” Cecil was grinning in the dark.

            “You – you do? How?”

            “Earl called me earlier to tell me how you asked him to prepare his pulled pork recipe for me. But even if he hadn’t, I would have known. You’re not a very good liar, sweet Carlos.”

            “Oh,” he said, not knowing what else there was to say. “Well, you should also know that…”

            “That you were watching me eat? I thought you might be. Don’t worry, Carlos, I don’t mind at all. I liked it, actually, knowing you were probably watching me while I gorged myself like that. Look how full I am now… look what you’ve done to me,” he said, his voice sliding into its sultry low register as he arched his back slightly to make his belly even more pronounced.

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat as his hands moved seemingly of their own volition to frame the bloated curve. Words like _beautiful_ and _gorgeous_ and _perfect_ were spilling out of his mouth with roughly the same frequency as they came out of Cecil’s when the subject of Carlos’s hair came up on the air. Cecil slid an arm around him and pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together in a way that made Cecil burp and made Carlos give a broken whimper, nearly coming right then from the sensation of Cecil’s belly pressing into him.

            Carlos let himself slide down until his head was at the level of Cecil’s stomach, and he laid against it, letting his ear press against the taut curve. It was gurgling so assiduously, hard at work on the large meal, and Carlos imagined all that food being churned up and digested and adding to the soft fullness of Cecil’s belly.

            “It really was delicious,” Cecil said, reaching down to stroke Carlos’s hair. “And knowing you were probably watching made it even better.”

            “I wish I could join it in there,” Carlos murmured, shifting his head to be able to plant a kiss just above Cecil’s navel.

“What?” said Cecil in a bemused tone.

            “I wish I could be… Oh, I guess that’s kind of a weird fantasy,” he headed himself off, suddenly self-conscious. “I was just imagining if you could eat _me_. But not literally,” he hastened to add, just in case any strange Night Valean notions might make Cecil think he could or should fulfill that fantasy.

“Oh,” said Cecil thoughtfully. “You like that idea?”

            “Yeah,” Carlos conceded, rubbing against Cecil’s leg to show him the physical proof of how much he liked it.

“Mm,” said Cecil, and it seemed that that was all he had to say on the matter, because then he was urging Carlos back up into another kiss, and the two of them were grinding against one another, beginning to pant and moan in the heat of the moment.

            Carlos came nearly as soon as the friction began, unsurprisingly given how long he had been close to the edge. Cecil didn’t take too much longer, and soon they were both breathing heavily in the quiet darkness, arms around each other as the intensity faded and sleep began to fog their brains. Cecil fell asleep first, the combination of fullness and the exertion of the sex pulling him into a deep sleep, and Carlos was not far behind, snuggled warm in Cecil’s arms with his belly pressing against him.

            In the morning, Carlos woke to find Cecil’s side of the bed empty. The sheets there were still warm, so surely he had not been gone long. He stretched and yawned, glad that it was Saturday and there was no hurry to get going anywhere. He had just closed his eyes to sleep a bit longer when the door opened and Cecil came in, a cloth napkin tied around his neck and salt and pepper shakers in his hand, like a cartoon character getting ready for a meal.

            “What are you doing?” Carlos said with a sleepy smile, sitting up partway.

            Cecil climbed onto the bed and straddled Carlos, leaning down just enough for Carlos to feel his belly brush against him. “Having breakfast,” he said with a sultry grin, and Carlos’s vision went white for a moment, so fast did blood race away from his brain and toward the southern hemisphere of his body.

            “Oh- _ohh,_ ” was all he could say as Cecil flicked salt onto Carlos’s neck and then leaned in to lick it off, his mouth parting wide and warm over Carlos’s skin. As Cecil nipped and bit and sucked, Carlos ground out, “I have – _ahh –_ the best – _nnn_ – boyfriend, _ever_.”


End file.
